Downstairs, I don’t see him in the living room, so I make my way into the kitchen, skittishly.
I’ve always been a confident guy. Not boastful or anything, but I just know who I am and I’m good with that.
But right now, I’m questioning everything. I’m… scared. And it’s so foreign it reminds me of when I was nineteen, and my best friends died, leaving me a permanent piece of them I was meant to protect over everything else.
The boy with the silvery-blonde hair, who’s sitting at the kitchen island, staring somberly into a plate of food.
“Hey,” I mumble, and he peers up over his shoulder, his golden eyes wide and shining.
He looks tormented, and it’s all my fault. I hate that I’m responsible for that look.
“Jess… I’m so fucking sorry.” I force myself to remain firm and sincere in my words. In my much-needed apology. “That was completely… fucked. I’m not sure who that guy was, but it’s not me, and I can never apologize to you enough.”
“You don’t need to be sorry…” he mutters, confusion and duress lining his face.
“Yes, I do,” I jump to say. “I laid hands on you… My God, that was so wrong. Please don’t hate me.”
He shifts in his seat to face me fully. “I don’t. I could never hate you…”
“You should.” I rub my eyes. “That was… it was wrong of me. So fucking wrong, all of it.”
His head shakes. “But it wasn’t—”
“No. It was,” I cut him off. “You made this delicious meal for us, and I just ruined everything. I’m sorry…” My fingers rake through my hair. “I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I’m more fucked up over losing Leslie than I thought…”
His face is ashen, eyes wide and unblinking as he just stares at me where I’m trembling with remorse at the entrance to the room.
I take in a deep breath. “If you want to go hang out with your friend, who am I to stop you? You’re an adult, after all. I shouldn’t have reacted that way… I don’t know why—”
“You don’t?” He hums. I can see his chest moving with unsteady breaths. It trips me up.
“No… I…” My chin dips, and I swallow hard. “You should go… see…” I was about to utter the kid’s name, but it catches in my throat, and I clear it roughly. “Your friend. Go have fun. And we’ll just put this whole bullshit day behind us.”
I catch a look of anguish on his face, but I ignore it and stomp across the room, going for a plate. I busy myself with scooping food, all the while feeling his gaze on me, like spatters of liquid heat.
Pushing it all away, I take a seat across from him and immediately dig into the food. It’s…
“Delicious,” I tell him, glancing up for just a moment.
His lips part, but nothing comes out for many heavy moments, before he finally mutters, “Thanks.”
“I’m just gonna eat and hit the sack,” I go on, gaze set on my food. “It’s been… a long day.”
The silence stretches over the room like a giant tarp, covering us and holding in all the tension. It’s just shy of unbearable, but I fight it as best I can, because what else can I do?
Nothing. We have to just… move on. It’s the only option.
When I’m done eating, and Jesse’s plate is still full, untouched, I bring mine to the sink. “Don’t worry about cleaning up. I’ll do it tomorrow.”
Glancing at all the containers of cookies and cupcakes everywhere, I sigh, wandering away. But his voice catches me once more before I can flee.
“James…”
Pausing with my back to him, I wait for him to say whatever it is he’s been simmering with this whole time. But nothing comes out.
His silence speaks volumes.
I fucked up royally. I broke us.
He’s never called me Dad before. And I always respected that decision. He knows I’m not his real father, despite the fact that I raised him, and paperwork would tell a different story. I’m his guardian, meant to do just that… Guard him from the pain of the world, not create it.
And yet right now, when he says my name, it sits differently in my chest.
I have no idea what changed between us, how or why I’m now hearing my name from his lips as some sort of plea…
But I can’t keep harping on it, and as much as I want to, I can’t force the normal back. I have to accept that I might have destroyed it forever.
So I leave the room and head back upstairs. To my dungeon.
I’ve been lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning.
Sleep evades me, as it tends to. Though this is different. I even considered smoking, which I’ll only ever do when I really need to get some rest. But I decided against it.
Torturing myself with my thoughts seems like what I deserve.
The television is on, volume so low it’s almost muted. I was hoping the white noise would help distract me, and maybe lull me into some form of slumber. But it’s not working. My mind is racing, flashing over the memories of the last twenty-four hours. The things I did… the things I let happen.
How it felt…
Despite how wrong I know it was, on every level, I can’t stop remembering the feel of his lips. Soft and unsure, but packed with so much undiscovered lust, it’s been bringing a steady throb to my balls for hours.
Even pushing aside the wrongness of what happened, I’m confounded at how good it felt. It makes no sense… Because I’m straight. And I always have been. I’ve never looked at any man in a sexual way before. It’s a part of myself I was always fully secure with before today.
Okay… There was that one time I accidentally stumbled upon a video. And it may have captivated my attention for more minutes than I’d ever admit out loud before I ultimately clicked back onto something more along the lines of my typical repertoire.
But that hardly makes me interested in guys. It was just a very brief, sort of fascinating accident. Which is a great way of describing what happened with Jesse, too.
I’m amazed at how intense it was… The head, and the kiss. Both illustrious in their own ways, rocking me down to my core. I can’t stop thinking about it.
My mind is twirling and whirling like a cyclone, my body itching in some need I can’t for the life of me figure out, when I hear a noise.
Footsteps, out in the hall.
My heart immediately lodges in my throat when I recognize the familiar shuffling. It sounds like Jesse sleepwalking.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I listen to him fumbling outside my bedroom door, which is unlocked and open a crack, as usual. Because despite how much I know I should be putting distance between us, I can’t shut him out. I’m incapable of doing so.
So he didn’t go to Tanner’s house…?
Or maybe he did and came back. Maybe they hooked up, and Jesse came home, like I’m sure he’s done before, which I never would have noticed before tonight.
I scoff to myself in the dark. What kind of name is Tanner anyway? He sounds like a douche.
What the fuck is this icky, suffocating nausea creeping up my esophagus like bile?
And since when do I feel this while thinking about my adoptive son dating some asshole with a stupid name?